Where Nothing Meets Everything
by The Demented ClownFish
Summary: We're all just boring, vile, lost creatures who look out for no one but ourselves. Or at least that's my take on it. My name is Isabella, and I don't want to be here.
1. My Manic And I

**Prolouge.**

**Hello reader**, this is a prologue for a ride that will end with an epilogue. That should however be **far** away in the future, as I plan for this little bad boy to take you on a few spontaneous loops and what not. This story, "_A moment of solitude_" is going to be the first book in a **series** of three, I plan on updating on _every second tuesday_, unless i come up with a little surprise chapter, don't expect anything else. I will however keep this promise.

The story will contain supernatural material, when and if is for you to find out and me to write. (just so you're warned) it will contain some OOC behavious from several characters, so if you don't like Jacob Black being a smart know it all, or an Edward Cullen who doesn't go cry to his mamma Esmé when his glitter won't sparkle - don't read this story because you will get irritated.

**ANYWAYS**! I have no Beta at this moment, so if you want to join me on this project - please come forward. Otherwise, see you next time!

* * *

Did it even matter what I thought anymore? I mean, what was the point of Charlie asking me what I preferred to do, if ultimately he would chose what he thought best for me?

The never ending dilemma; _should I stay or should I go_?

I'd been in Copenhagen for the last two weeks with my dad, and he now proposed that I moved in with him back home in forks, problem being that my mother wanted me in London with her.

Currently I had no place to live.

It might seem odd that I, Bella Swan aged seventeen had no place to live, the reason would be found in my parents never ending fight. I'd been moving around the globe with my mother for the past ten years, ever since she and my dad got divorced.

I'd grown up in Forks, moving away when I turned seven.

But because of my crazed mother, I had never really experienced a real 'home' besides Forks, and I guess I longed for stability – which wouldn't be found anywhere near Renée… That being said, I might find too much of it with my dad.

He always did what he thought best for me, so much that sometimes I just wanted to scream at him in frustration.

Like on this holiday, I wasn't allowed anywhere liquor even though the age restriction in Denmark was sixteen, and Renée had been offering me wine at dinner since I was thirteen. Of course not a whole bottle or anything, but she had moved to France with me and over there it was most unusual for children not to have a glass of wine with their dinner, and when we moved away a year later she kept the habit going.

Charlie almost fainted when I asked him if I could have a sip of his beer. Such contrasts.

"Yes, I must agree."

"Well, Renée, I just don't think London will agree with her…"

"No, I just-"

"Yes, I miss her."

"You've had for her ten years!"

"I know I've seen her for a couple of weeks here and there-"

"If only…"

"So you agree?"

"I most certainly think she'll enjoy it!"

She? Enjoy what? Who was Charlie talking to?

"So she'll come with me to Forks, and you'll send her stuff as soon as possible. You know what, Renée? I really think this will be good for her."

Did it really matter? He'd do whatever he wanted to, thinking he did the best he possibly could for me… and I…. I felt so empty. So bored.

So Empty.

So mellow.

So hollow.

So fucked up.

When I got up the next morning, I looked around the hotel room we'd been staying in for the last two weeks, and I couldn't help the sour feeling coming up in my throat.

This was the room that had witnessed an exchange made between my two parents, and just like me, it could do nothing but watch.

So fucked up.

I wanted to scream at Charlie when I saw him in the kitchen cooking breakfast for us, I wanted to burn the whole room down, I wanted to rip my hair out and feed it to my cat. I just wanted to feel something different that anger and depression.

I wanted him to notice.

But fucking Charlie just calls for me, and asks me to have breakfast with him: he says it'll be our last time together for a long time.

Liar.

"So, dad. What time is your plain leaving at?" I stare at him, expecting him to talk to me about his little chat with Renée last night.

"Um, around one." He answers, moustache slightly twitching.

"Yeah? What about mine?"

"Around then, too."

I try to stare at him more intently, wondering why he keeps it a secret.

"Hmm, when will you come visit me in London or wherever it is Renée has decided to move at that time?"

"Isabella, I've actually been thinking-" here we go…

"About whether or not you'd want to move in with me?" is there really a point to this question? The decision has already been made.

"Is there an option, dad?" I ask, whilst munching on a blueberry muffin.

"Yeah-"

"Liar."

"Well, no."

I give him a bored look and then I just say that I'll be moving in with him as of now. Because I'm his only child, and I don't really know what to do with my life I don't start a fight.

All of my anger gone, and the familiar feeling of depression taking over.

I'm so fucked up.


	2. Let Me Be Your Hurricane

Hello reader, hope you enjoyed the prologue and find yourself ready for **chapter 1** (2).

Chapter 2 is in the works, and will be next tuesday, and from then on updates will be on every second tuesday. Twice a month. Twenty four times per year. Probably more with all my little updates in-between, but you know - no time like the future. ha ha. let's just get on with it, shall we?

* * *

I was now a citizen of **Forks**.

The rest of my summer had been a blur of frustration and visiting friends.

I'd been to see Caroline in Manchester, Alexander in New York and my favourite twins in Berlin; Yann and Michelle.

But the most time had been spent in my new room, decorating. If Charlie thought I'd move into a room with décor that matched a seven year old's desires, he'd thought wrong.

I now had my own flat screen, laptop on a desk, bookcase, double bed and closet. It sounded very simple, but with my friend William's art hanging on every naked spot on my wall it looked quite cool.

As of today, I'd also be an attender of Forks' high school.

Charlie had left a note on our dining table wishing me a good day, and that he would be home at seven.

Our relationship had grown this summer; we were not 'just' daughter and overprotective father anymore. We were Charlie and Isabella, people who knew each other.

As I moved outside, I couldn't help but sigh. This was my tenth time attending a new school, and being the 'new kid' had never been as unappealing as today. In a town of 5 k people, a new teenager was quite the story – especially one who'd lived there before.

All though this news bored me, it sure as hell didn't bore some weirdos who'd been knocking on my door wanting to see me, of course I'd said to Charlie I was ill or something… basically any lame excuse I could come up with to ignore the welcome committee, so I'd made sure my attire for my first day of school was as 'normal' as possible.

A pair of black skinny jeans, a mint green dress shirt and a pair of black vans, was my weapon of choice.

And as I pulled my army parka over my head, I couldn't help but look in distaste at the black mud on the ground.

When I arrived at Forks high school, which thanks to Renée it had been done with style, in my new 2012 911 porche. All black. Which had been sent to me as a 'goodbye' present and a wish of the best of luck at my new school.

Which of course was a magnet for attention, something I hadn't thought of this morning when I decided to take it to school.

I marched up to the front of the school, ignoring the looks and whispers people were giving me. And continued on the path, I thought would lead to the office.

"Hi." I said when I reached the front desk in the office.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" a lady asked me, looking rather confused.

"My name is Isabella swan, and I'm here to-" suddenly the lady smiled wide and clapped her hands.

"Yes, dear Isabella, we have all been waiting with anticipation to see you. Well at least us in here have, because we saw you grow up, or at least from your birth till you were seven! So we were quite excited to see what you would look like!" her excitement was out of place, almost like she'd been drinking too much coffee right before our meet.

"Oh, well…" I said awkwardly, trying to direct the attention elsewhere.

"Sorry, here is your schedule. Do check in another time, so we can chat." She waved me off and smiled.

I really wanted to ask her if she was being serious, but instead I just nodded and ventured out of the room.

Looking down at my schedule I could see that I was supposed to be in room 102, which was the furthest away from the office you could get, and all of the other students were no longer to spy in the halls.

Great.

As I knocked on the door for room 102 seven minutes later, I could hear the teacher give out an annoyed huff and walk over to the door and open it halfway.

"Hello misses." He said not opening the door completely yet. Weirdo.

"Yeah, hi. I'm new and this is my first class. Sorry for my tardiness." He looked at me and then some sort of realisation dawned on him, and he hurriedly opened up the door and let me in.

"Class, this is a new student at Forks high, but an old citizen of our town: Isabella Swan."

I just looked at my classmates and nodded in confirmation.

The teacher who's named remained unknown directed me to a seat at the back of the class and the continued his lecture.

It was odd having people turn around and stare at me like I was a stranded goldfish.

I stared at the person sitting next to me for a short moment, and then redirected my attention to my mind.

I didn't really listen to anything the teacher taught us, or any of the whispers concerning my arrival. It was all so mundane, so unnecessary.

As the bell made it known that this class was over a group of people seemed to near me, blocking my exit from the class.

A girl with blonde hair stepped up and smiled and me, offering me her name and hand.

"Lauren." I nodded at her and offered my hand in return greeting her with a _Isabella._

And after her seven people decided to make their way and greet me. Like I'd ever remember that many names in a matter of minutes. So stupid.

A boy named Marshall offered to take me to my next class, out of _politeness _of course. I agreed and smiled at him slightly. The youth of Forks was too boring, too proper, most of them said they remembered me from kindergarten; I couldn't even name one I went with. It was all so plastic and smiley.

Everything had been so predictable that day up until I met _him_.

Edward Anthony Cullen.

He shook my hand, said his name and then proceeded to play drums on his legs, his manly hot legs. He was handsome beyond, well beyond any of the boys from Forks. He didn't fit in, and that drew me in.

I wanted in on his thoughts.

I sat down next to him in our history class, and stared at him for a couple of minutes until I decided I had to speak with him, but he also seemed like the type of guy who knew where to party in Forks. And I had to know where that was.

"Say Edward, if a person wanted to go somewhere fun – without hanging with the prep squat, where would one go?"

He cracked a smile at my obvious disdain for the welcome committee, but still didn't stop drumming on his legs.

"It can't be done, sorry." I stared at him a bit longer, and the smiled at him.

"Are you saying, that if I want to get out of my house and I want to do something somewhat enjoyable, I'll have to bake cupcakes and talk about shoes?"

He stopped drumming and met my glance.

"Yes, unless you enjoy crazy."

"Depends."

"Sorry, but I don't think you do. At least not my crazy, which is the only crazy around here… everything else is just high school musical. " He smiled at me then, and then once again proceeded to drum on his legs, with his long, strong, pale fingers.

"Are you in a band?" I asked ignoring his blatant insult, and focused on his drumming fingers instead.

"No, not a band."

"Then what?"

"Something crazy." He said grinning slightly, opening his notepad and started focusing on our history teacher that had begun his lecture few prior.

Edward A. Cullen was somewhat weird and somewhat cool.

I made my way into the cafeteria, and spotted a girl waving at me, I think her name was Jesse or Justine or whatever, I also spotted a rather handsome boy at a table the furthest away from the entrance. He was sat with some rather tan looking dudes, and two girls.

I made my way over to what's her face, and smiled at the people who sat with her, some of them, which I'd been introduced to before greeted me, and two or three I'd yet to meet, introduced themselves.

Apparently Angela Weber, a girl whom I'd had Spanish with, had been a friend of mine in kindergarten, and she quickly started asking questions about my life, she asked everyone else seemed to listen in on our conversation.

"Well, nothing super exciting has really happened to me." I said, shrugging off the unwanted attention.

"Sure? I mean it must have been a little bit more exciting than Forks." She said, giving me a gentle smile.

"You could say that, but exciting can get boring."

"How so?" asked a fake blonde, with pink glasses and boobs that were pushed up so much, that they almost flew over her shirt.

"If you know, that you never know what's going to happen, you can't make plans. You can't do anything really, because you have to be prepared for everything."

"Everything in moderation, right?" Angela said.

"But if the moderation can't happen, and you loose control for too long, you get confused and loose focus."

"Like smoking too much, eh?" Says the prep squat's very own stoner. His comment is followed by a smack on the head by another blonde kid, who proceeds to give me a smile of apology, and then what's her face starts talking about her party next weekend, that I simply **MUST** attend.

I'd rather eat raw egg.

As I walked out to my car, I discovered a boy leaning against it. Every other student had left the parking a long time ago, the only reason as to why I hadn't joined them in their quest of freedom, was because Mrs. smiley old woman wanted to chat with me in her office about _old times_. Which was too creepy and weird beyond possible description.

"Oy! What are you doing?" I yelled at him, trying to walk hurriedly over to him, making sure he hadn't scratched my car.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't miss swan herself." He grinned at me. Looking handsome in his tanned skin, black messy hair and brown eyes.

"Well that's unfair, I don't know your last name. How am I supposed to sound mocking?" I asked him, trying to look up at his face.

"Black, my lady." He said offering his hand to me.

"Yeah, okay. What are you doing with my car?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to check it out, it's by far the sweetest ride I've seen in a while around here." He said, offering a smile complete with dimples. Cute.

"Okay, Black missing first name, I'd prefer it if I could enter it now and get home, no matter how much your flattery is appreciated." I said a bit annoyed.

"Actually, I was wondering."

"What?"

"My mate Edward was supposed to drive me home, but he said there was a family emergency or whatever and bailed, and no one else lives close to me, with the exception of you." He said, grinning really bright almost looking proud of his stupid story.

"Or you just wanted a ride." He shrugged and laughed.

"How do you even know where I live?" I say a bit irritated.

"Our dad's are like BFF's, I swear they could be on toddler's and tiaras with all their hand-clapping when they're together."

"Well, Mr black, can we go by first names then?"

"Yeah, I'm Jacob. Nickname is _hot stuff_." I would later learn just how accurate that name was.

"And I'm Isabella." I said, smiling slightly.

"Ha, like nobody not knows." That actually did make me laugh, and he made it so that I was laughing the whole way to his house, and smiling fondly at his antics on my way home.

Maybe I wouldn't have to sit with the prep squat tomorrow at lunch after all.


End file.
